Month: December 2024

Fiona Wright’s children gathered at her home to celebrate their mother’s 75th birthday, but the woman suddenly disappeared. They looked everywhere in the house and were confused when Fiona reappeared right from her room. But the older woman died suddenly that night, and her children finally discovered why she vanished.

All three of them, their spouses, and children had gathered for their mother’s 75th birthday at their childhood home in Thornton, Colorado. There was a lot of noise in the house, but they all had a good time. However, it was getting late, and their mother would probably want them to leave soon, so Viola went to find her.

But when she returned, she shrugged and said, “She’s not in her room. Is she outside?”

“No, she’s not,” Noah’s wife, Karina, replied in confusion. “I could’ve sworn we just saw her going into her room.”

“Yeesh, let’s all look for her. Her mind has not been that great lately. I hope she didn’t go outside,” Clementine chimed in.

All the adults searched the property for Mrs. Wright to no avail. They asked their kids, who were playing in the backyard, but no one had seen her. After a few minutes of nothing, all Fiona’s children started to get worried.

“The neighbors haven’t seen her either. Should we call the police?” Noah wondered, grabbing his phone from his pocket and unlocking it.

“No! It hasn’t been that long. Let’s divide up and search by car this time. She likes going to the café two blocks away, and there’s a Walmart where everyone knows her. Let’s see. Where else could she go?” Clementine started planning. She used her fingers to list all the places where Fiona might be, but then the older woman reappeared.

“Hey, why are you all huddled here?” Fiona asked, her hands on her waist as she looked around at her family gathered at her home.

Everyone rushed to Fiona, demanding to know where she had been because they’d been searching for her for at least 30 minutes. However, the older woman was completely confused by this.

“Anyway…,” Clementine’s husband, Matthew, began, leading his mother-in-law towards a chair at the dining table. “How about we sing happy birthday and get out of Mrs. Wright’s hair. She’s clearly tired.”

The rest of the clan agreed, so they lit the candles and sang for the older woman, although she looked confused. Suddenly, she whispered. “It’s my birthday? We should wait for Robert to come out of the bedroom.”

However, they couldn’t dwell on that for too long because at that moment, Mrs. Wright fell from her chair and collapsed on the floor, and she never woke up again.

The following week went by in a blur for the entire family, as they hosted a funeral and a special reception afterward for their extended relatives who flew out of state to pay their respects.

When all that was over, Noah, Viola, and Clementine started sorting Mrs. Wright’s things at her home. They planned to sell the house, so they had to pack her belongings and clean up. Then the topic of their mother’s disappearance during her birthday came up. “I just hate that we we’ll never know what happened that day. I swear she wasn’t here,” Viola said, folding one of Fiona’s old dresses into a box.

As Viola finished packing her mother’s clothes, she started cleaning around. That’s when she noticed an old photograph behind the wardrobe. She couldn’t pull it out, so Noah came to help her. He heaved at the effort but moved it enough to get the picture. However, Viola had already lost interest in the image because moving her mom’s antique furniture had uncovered a secret door. “What is this?” she asked, looking at her siblings with wide eyes.

“It’s like the movies. It’s a door. Noah, let me help you move this thing some more,” Clementine suggested, rushing towards the wardrobe. After the siblings pulled it entirely to the side, Viola tried the rusty door, which opened easily. They all gasped as it revealed a staircase leading down.

“Now I understand why Mom talked about Dad being in the bedroom that day. She must have been hiding in here looking at this thing when you went to her room, Viola,” Noah muttered, shaking his head and crossing his arms. “This is so weird. Where did she get this?”

“I don’t know, but it’s nice. It’s well-made. I think it might be marble too. I think Mom missed Dad so much that she probably came down here every day and for about everything else,” Viola chimed in, inspecting the artwork. “Should we keep it?”

A few days later, Viola decided to get it appraised. The curator at Amber Braxton Fine Arts confirmed that it was made out of marble, and therefore, it was an expensive piece. He offered to show it at their gallery, and eventually, a wealthy art collector bought it.

What can we learn from this story?

• Some loved ones are never forgotten. Mental capabilities deteriorate with old age, but Mrs. Wright never forgot her husband.
• Art is subjective. Mr. and Mrs. Wright had that sculpture at home for a reason, although their children couldn’t see its real value. But a stranger did and bought it.

Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.

If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a doctor who lived at the hospital for months until someone noticed.

This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.

On Christmas morning, Samantha sits quietly, questioning everything—her choices, their future, and whether her children are truly happy. The day feels heavy, the joy of the season missing. Then, a knock at the door breaks the silence. A mysterious package sits on the doorstep, its contents so unexpected and thoughtful that it brings her to tears…

My daughters, five-year-old triplets Anna, Bella, and Cara, sat cross-legged on the threadbare carpet, scribbling in dollar-store coloring books I had managed to buy for the girls.

Their giggles and chatter brought a warmth I couldn’t quite feel myself.

“Look, Mama!” Anna said, holding up her page. She had colored a horse bright purple, giving it giant, floppy wings.

“That’s beautiful, sweetheart,” I said, smiling through the lump in my throat.

It was supposed to be a season of magic, but there wasn’t much magic left in our lives. And it broke my heart in ways that I couldn’t explain. I had chosen to be their mother, and giving them joy shouldn’t be this difficult.

Chad, my girls’ father and my ex-husband, had left six months ago, moving to Canada with his new girlfriend. His departure drained not just our bank account, but the foundation of the life we’d built.

That was it.

Still, their laughter was enough to keep me going.

Then, the doorbell rang.

“Who on earth could that be?” I muttered, wrapping my shawl tighter around my shoulders.

We didn’t have visitors, not friends or family. I peered out of the front window but saw no one.

“Not sure, baby,” I said. “But let’s see!”

When I opened the door, the street was empty. The wind bit at my face, but there, on the doorstep, sat a large box. It was wrapped in shimmering red paper, with a perfect green bow on top.

I froze, scanning the street again. Nothing. No footsteps in the snow, no car pulling away.

“I don’t know, baby,” I said, bending to lift it. The box was heavier than it looked, but it was small.

The girls gathered around like it was treasure.

“Can we open it? Please?” Bella begged, bouncing on her toes.

“Let’s see what’s inside,” I said, though my heart pounded with unease. Who would leave us something like that?

The wrapping came off easily as I squatted on the floor while Cara hummed Christmas carols under her breath. The ribbon fell away with a single pull, and as I peeled back the layers of tape and cardboard, my breath caught in my throat.

Inside the box were two stacks of cash, dozens of chocolates and biscuits, and Christmas stockings. Neatly bundled bills filled the stacks; they were crisp and tightly packed. Sitting on top was a plain white envelope with my name on it.

“Mama, why are you crying?” Cara asked, tugging on my sleeve. “Did you get hurt?”

“No, baby,” I said. “Mama is okay.”

The girls could eat their way through chocolates and see what on earth was stuffed in the Christmas stockings. All I wanted was to spoil my babies.

My hands shook as I reached for the envelope, tearing it open with trembling fingers.

Dear Samantha,

This might feel strange, but please understand this comes from a place of gratitude. Years ago, you helped a stranger… a young woman lost and desperate, by offering her a warm meal and a place to stay for one night. You didn’t know it at the time, but that kindness saved my life.

I’ve never forgotten what you did, even as my life changed for the better. Now, I want to repay you in a way that can make a difference for you and your beautiful children.

Inside this box is enough money to help you start fresh. I know you have triplets. There are two stacks of money, but there’s also a check for a lot more. Cash it in. Let it help you breathe.

You taught me the power of kindness. Now it’s my turn to pass it on.

Merry Christmas,

A friend

“Mama, are you okay?” Bella asked.

I pulled them close, wrapping my arms around all three of them.

“Yes, baby girls, I’m okay!” I exclaimed. “I’m so much more than okay!”

The money sat on the table for hours as I stared at it, trying to process what had just happened. The practical and realistic part of me wondered if it could be real. Even worse, it could be some kind of trap.

Who had this much cash to just give someone else?

I was washing the dishes when the memory struck me.

Lisa. Her name had been Lisa.

I remembered her clearly now, even though years had dulled the memory. She had been just a teenager when she knocked on my door one stormy night. Rain had soaked her to the bone, and her eyes were swollen from crying.

Instead, she spent the night on our couch, wrapped in an old blanket.

In the morning, she was gone, leaving behind only a napkin with “Thank you” scrawled on it. I hadn’t thought about her in years. I mean, why would I?

It was just a night with a random stranger, and I offered her some kindness. That was it. She was a sweet girl who needed help and someone to listen. And a good meal and a cup of tea.

That was all…

Until now. Had Lisa been watching us? How else did she know about my daughters? If she hadn’t been so lovely, I would have been afraid. But this… this would change everything.

The next day, I took one of the stacks of money and the check to the bank. They confirmed that the bills were legitimate and the check was real, and I asked to speak with a financial advisor. If this gift was real, if it was truly a chance to start over, I wanted to do it the right way.

I paid off our debts first. The weight of overdue bills and looming threats melted away as I signed the final check.

And then, finally, I dared to dream.

For years, I wanted to start a baking business. I’ve always loved baking. From pies, tarts, cookies, and cakes to muffins and scones. But life had never given me the chance to pursue it.

Now, I had the resources to take that leap. I used the remaining money to buy second-hand equipment and convert my kitchen into a workspace.

Within months, Samantha’s Sweets was born.

It wasn’t easy. I worked long hours, often collapsing into bed after midnight. But I loved every minute of it. Orders poured in from neighbors and local businesses, and before long, I had to hire a part-time assistant to keep up.

My girls watched it all unfold, their little faces glowing with pride every time they saw my logo on a box.

“Mama, you’re happy now?” Anna asked as she picked up a cookie one evening.

I had wanted to spend some time with the three of them, and so we were decorating cookies and chatting about school.

“Yes!” Bella said, sticking her finger into a bowl of blue frosting.

“I like that you’re home more, Mama,” Cara said. “When we come home, you’re here and baking. Not at the office.”

That made my heart swell because when I gave up my desk job to take on baking full-time, I didn’t know if I was making a mistake.

And they believe me.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, here’s another one for you:

I Bought My MIL a $600 Bag She Dreamed of for Christmas, But Her Behavior Made Me Change My Mind

When Brendon’s mother-in-law, Susan, sees the Christmas present pile under the tree, she immediately wants to take away her granddaughter’s gift. And for what? To teach the little girl a lesson: that you cannot always get what you want. Not to be outdone, Brendon teaches Susan a Christmas lesson that she’ll never forget.

Most of my money went toward gifts for my nine-year-old daughter, Eve. She had been doing so well in school, helping out around the house without us even asking, and being all-around amazing.

If anyone deserved to be spoiled, it was her.

But apparently, my mother-in-law, Susan, had other thoughts.

The trouble started when she dropped by one morning, bringing a batch of freshly baked muffins with her. She noticed the Christmas tree practically buried under a pile of wrapped presents. Immediately, her face changed.

“Wow,” Susan said, crossing her arms as she scanned the room. “Looks like Santa went a little overboard this year, huh?”

I gave her a polite smile, still riding the holiday high.

“I figured it was a good year to do something special. Everyone’s got a little something under the tree… including you,” I laughed.

Her eyebrows lifted.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.